"No, sir, I don't," replied that worthy bluntly.
Ranworth questioned him no further. By the man's manner it was clearly evident that, although he put no definite obstacles in the way, he was not the least anxious to assist his employer.
"I cannot understand their attitude," soliloquised Ranworth. "Both men had good certificates and bore excellent characters. Up to a few hours ago they worked splendidly. Either their brains have been affected by the shock of their adventures in the blizzard, or else they are doing their utmost to induce me to abandon the attempt by means of the sleigh. If that's the move, by Jove, they are making a big mistake."
It was no easy matter taking an observation, owing to the liveliness of the floating sleigh, but when Ranworth had worked out his position and had pin-pricked it on a very incomplete chart of the south coast of Nova Cania, he announced that the Bird of Freedom was eighty miles to the westward of Desolation Inlet.
For hours, with both the aerial and sea propellers running at their maximum speed, the Bird of Freedom skirted the iron-bound coast, until a rift in the cliffs betokened the entrance to Desolation Inlet.
As the approach opened out, the lads could see that the inlet strongly resembled a Norwegian fiord. Barely a hundred yards in width, it was bordered by cliffs rising to twice that distance. How far it extended they could not see, owing to the fact that the inlet turned sharply to the right a quarter of a mile or so beyond the entrance.
"Slow her down a bit, Leslie," ordered Ranworth. "We don't want to carry on at too great a speed and barge into something. We'll have to watch for air currents, too. It looks as if there were no wind, but it may be perfectly calm out here and blowing a gale through those ravines. By Jove, there's a sea running on the bar."
"Are you going in with this 'ere hooker, sir?" asked Payne, who, unknown to Ranworth and the two lads, had come for'ard to view the approach.
"I am," replied Ranworth coldly.
"Better wait for the old Polarity," continued the seaman. "How can you expect a bloomin' egg-box like this to get through a smother of sea like that? It's madness. It ain't fair on us."